


Anything Good

by magicgamble



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, M/M, my two favorite things: klance and the wild west, this is pretty self-indulgent ngl, yeehaw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-24 12:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16175294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicgamble/pseuds/magicgamble
Summary: After a run-in with a gang of desperadoes, Keith is left stranded and injured near the Texas border. Fortunately, before he can bite the dust, he is aided by Lance, a small-time cattle rustler who has no idea what he's just gotten himself into. They'll have to work together if they want to make it out unscathed. It seems danger follows Keith everywhere-- even in ways he never expected.





	1. Chapter 1

If it hadn’t been for that damned horse keeling over, Keith might’ve been able to make it across the river and into Mexico. Not that that would’ve necessarily assured his freedom— Sendak seemed to have connections everywhere. His words still rang in Keith’s ears: “You can’t run forever, boy! And you better pray to God he smites you before we catch up.”

 

Well, they had. Caught up, that is. And Keith had barely escaped with his life. Now he was bleeding out in some God-forsaken scrubland, about to collapse from exhaustion.

 

“Come on,” he urged himself, panting as he staggered forward. There had to be a town nearby… a house… something. He’d thought he was close to El Paso, but after that run-in with the gang, he had lost all sense of direction. “Patience yields focus,” he muttered, feeling close to tears. Shiro never would’ve found himself in this situation. He was too smart. Keith had been reckless— he’d _known_ the gang would be looking for him around here, but he’d come anyway. There was too much allure to the idea of starting over.

 

Well, now he’d get his wish. Hopefully the afterlife was kinder, if it existed at all. “Shut up, Keith,” he growled, annoyed at his own theatrics. If he died, he died. But for now he was going to fight.

 

The wound in his side pumped blood steadily out over his hand, dripping down his leg and staining his fingernails red. It hurt like hell, but Keith was beginning to feel a release from the burning pain it had been before. He felt a little lighter, easier. Good.

 

_No, not good!_  the logical part of his brain screamed at him. _Not good, you idiot, you’re dying!_

 

“Patience yields focus,” he said again, but it was only a whisper. Before he knew it, he was facedown in the dirt, blinking rapidly to keep awake. “Patience yields…” he tried, but his tongue wouldn’t work anymore.

 

He was faintly aware of someone yelling. Maybe it was the gang. Maybe they’d followed his trail of blood to finish him off. Well, at least he was too far gone to be tortured now. He’d die before they even started. But when whoever it was rolled him over onto his back, Keith was hazily aware that this was not anyone in the gang. It wasn’t Sendak. It was a boy… a boy who was leaning entirely too close to him.

 

“Hijo de puta…” the boy said, wincing. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

 

Keith groaned in response, trying to keep his eyes open.

 

“Alright, alright, uh… hang on,” the boy said, and Keith felt himself being lifted up by the shoulders. Pain shot through his entire torso and he cried out before he could stop himself. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” the boy repeated over and over, but somehow, eventually, Keith was lying over the saddle of a horse. The boy had one hand on his back as he urged the horse to move. Each jostle made Keith’s side ache, but he held his tongue. He was too tired to worry about who this boy was or what was next. He just wanted to sleep.

 

“Listen, just stay awake, alright?” the boy said, clearly unaware that Keith was about to disobey those orders. “We’re almost there, and then—“

 

But Keith didn’t stay conscious long enough to hear the rest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith wakes up to more than he wanted to deal with today.

Keith was standing in the middle of a huge, barren plain. Dead grass prickled under his boots and a chilly breeze weakly licked his face. He turned in a circle, trying to make sense of where he was. His hand hovered over the knife on his belt, but he seemed to be alone. Still, he would be visible for miles out in the open like this. He needed to find cover, get somewhere safe—

 

“Keith!”

 

The voice made the hair on Keith’s arms stand on end. It couldn’t be. He turned around again, but there was nobody in sight.

 

“Pa?” he called, not daring to hope that he’d heard correctly.

 

“Keith, help!”

 

Without another thought, Keith began running in the direction the voice was coming from. “Pa, hold on, I’m— ”

 

“Keith! Keith!”

 

The voice seemed to be coming from the other way now, and Keith hesitated, frustrated. “Pa, please, I’m coming, I’ll find you.”

 

“Keith,” a voice said again, but this time, it was Sendak. It was impossible to mistake that growl.

 

Keith drew his knife, brandishing it at the invisible threat. “Where are you?” he asked the air.

 

It was quiet for a moment, and then the voice passed by so close that Keith jumped. “You know you can’t escape me,” it said, drifting away and then back again.

 

Keith’s hands shook. “Shut up!”

 

“Better to die now before I kill you myself.”

 

Keith suddenly felt a sharp pain at his side and looked down to see that he was bleeding all over the dead grass. That's right... he'd been wounded. His trousers were soaked and sticky red.

 

“Give up, Keith.”

 

“No!” he screamed, and all at once the prairie was gone. Sendak was gone, and Keith was sitting up in an unfamiliar bed with two shocked men staring down at him.

 

One was wearing an apron over his clothes, sitting down at the desk beside the bed. He was big, with dark skin and huge, frightened eyes trained right on Keith. “Oh no, he’s awake,” he whispered to the other person in the room, who Keith recognized as the boy who’d carried him off on his horse. Now that he wasn't delirious with pain, Keith could see that the boy was around his own age, though his skin was darker and he was a little slighter. Taller, too, probably, though Keith couldn't be sure. He was handsome enough, but Keith got the impression that he was aware of that fact.

 

“Yeah, Hunk, I can see that.”

 

Keith’s head throbbed, and his bare skin felt extra-sensitive under the bedsheets. Bare skin. Wait. Keith felt for his knife, but it was missing. Gone. They’d stolen it, and—

 

“Hey, hey, calm down!” the one named Hunk said, hesitantly reaching out a hand to Keith. “We’re just trying to—“

 

“Where’s my stuff?” Keith demanded. Boy, his voice was hoarse. He sounded terrible.

 

“Relax, buddy, it’s right over here,” the boy said, stepping aside to show Keith the neat pile they’d made on the floor. His knife, still unsheathed, sat on top. Keith’s breaths slowly began to subside, and he looked down to see that his side where the bullet had nicked him was bandaged up. He was a little embarrassed by how much it had hurt him— now he could see that it had only grazed him. To be fair, he’d been riding hard before the shootout, and he’d been thirsty as hell. Not that it made a difference. He didn’t have to prove himself to these two.

 

“Who the hell are you guys anyway?” Keith asked.

 

The boy who’d helped him stepped forward almost instantly. “I’m Lance McClain,” he said, grinning. “Maybe you’ve heard of me?” He had one hand on his hip, his head cocked to the side.

 

Keith glanced at Hunk, who looked back at him with sympathy. “I’m guessing that’s a no, Lance," Hunk said pointedly.

 

Lance huffed a bit, crossing his arms like he was being victimized by Keith’s confusion.

 

“I’m sorry… I’m not really from around here,” Keith tried. He didn’t think this Lance fellow seemed especially dangerous, but he wasn’t about to become enemies with the person who’d helped him out. Keith was in too precarious of a position for that, anyway.

 

Lance seemed to accept this, and Hunk continued. “You’re in Coalition,” he said.

 

Keith blinked. “Where?”

 

“Coalition,” Hunk repeated. “The town? Most people miss it entirely, but we have what we need.”

 

“How close am I to the border?”

 

“Oh, not too far,” Lance replied. Then, “Wait, is that where you were trying to get to when I found you? Buddy, you were goin’ the complete opposite direction.”

 

Keith sighed, dropping his head to his hands and rubbing at his temples. “Yeah, I figured I was walkin’ in circles.”

 

“If you don’t mind me asking…” Hunk edged, “What’s going on? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

 

Keith stopped, then squared his shoulders, reminded of how dangerous it was to be here. “No,” he replied. “But I need to be moving on. Thanks for your hospitality, but I—“

 

He’d begun to stand, but as soon as he did, his head rushed and his wound throbbed, making him bite his lip to avoid whimpering. Hunk and Lance clearly saw this struggle, and they moved forward like they meant to help him. Keith held up a hand to ward them off.

 

“Hey, what’s the idea?” Lance asked. “Are you crazy or what? You just woke up near ten minutes ago.”

 

“You’d best stay put for the time being,” Hunk added.

 

Keith shook his head, furious with himself for getting in this mess in the first place. “I don’t mean any harm,” he began as patiently as he could, talking through the pain, “but if you tell me what to do one more time I’m gonna hit you.”

 

“Well, it’s my hotel,” Hunk said firmly. “And frankly, mister, the buzzards would be picking your bones right now if it wasn’t for me and Lance.”

 

“Right,” Lance agreed, “but mostly me.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Keith closed his eyes, breathing deeply before replying. “I appreciate it.”

 

“Well damn, I’d sure hope so,” Lance said. “Now lay back down, Mister...” he paused, realizing for the first time that he didn’t know what to call Keith. “What did you say your name was?”

 

Keith reluctantly settled back down into the bed, careful not to touch the bandage on his torso. “I didn’t.”

 

“Oh,” Lance snorted. “Well what do you know, Hunk, we could have a regular outlaw on our hands here.”

 

“Yeah.” Hunk smiled half-heartedly, inspecting Keith once more before averting his eyes. It seemed he wasn’t confident enough yet about Keith’s intentions to join in on the joke. Lance, however, continued to smirk. Keith couldn’t help but sense a challenge in those brown eyes. He realized in a flash that, like Hunk, Lance wasn’t sure about him, either, but part of him wanted his accusation to be true. It seemed like Lance McClain sensed danger… and he wasn’t averse to it.

 

Keith almost laughed. He normally wouldn’t wish his misfortunes on anyone, but if Lance wanted a shot at them, he was tempted to give in.

 

"Well, settle in, then, Mr. Nobody," Lance said. "And since you can't go anywhere, you might as well tell us a little about how you wound up wandering the desert, horseless and bleeding out faster than a hare used for target practice?"

 

Keith rolled his eyes. "It's a long story that you don't want to hear, trust me."

 

"Try me," Lance grinned.

 

Sighing, Hunk stood up from the desk. "Hold on, wait for me to come back with the tequila. Then I want to hear everything." 

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? I love a good outlaw. I'm really excited about this fic and I have some fun stuff planned for the boyz!


End file.
